


Lesser of Two Evils

by loveiscosmicsin



Category: Final Fantasy 15, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Brotp, Chocobros - Freeform, Gen, Living Together AU, OT4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 13:31:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7936519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveiscosmicsin/pseuds/loveiscosmicsin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unexpected laundry day for Ignis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lesser of Two Evils

**Author's Note:**

> From my tumblr: Coexisting with Magical Boyfriends AU aka I know Stupeo isn’t part of the name anymore because Ignis “Juicy” Scientia being shredded and having a 8-pack is the truth we have came to accept. I think I would have cried if Ignis wore underwear that read “Eat the booty like groceries” or “Are you nasty?” or something like that XD Credit to @letshareapapou since the art inspired this self-indulging drabble. IGNIS EPISODE ON MY BIRTHDAY WEEK YAAASS
> 
> Based off this art: http://letshareapapou.tumblr.com/post/148583814680/this-has-been-on-my-mind-for-a-while-and-it

Ignis Scientia fumed silently, brooding over an empty closet.

The closet’s interior expanded farther than the strategist’s arms could stretch out, more than adequate space to store his high-designer brands, stood empty in front of him. He didn’t think he would go through his entire collection before the week ended.

Sweeping his hands within the armoire, several outfits remained: a bedazzled and sequin leotard that left little to the imagination for when he stood in as Gladiolus’ partner when Cidney caught the flu the night before the dance competition, a blatantly provocative wheat-feathered costume dubbed “Bird Mom” to pair off with Noctis’ “Cat Man” anime cosplay, and a graphic novelty shirt that read “BEHEMOTH BIG” with an arrow pointing south, a souvenir received from Prompto’s travels.

On his wall hung a chic dress jacket encased in a glass frame, preserved in fond remembrance for the day he was declared worthy of the title Count, an outfit so pristine that Ignis never wore it again. Not even the most desperate of measures would he ever take it out of its frame.

As far as Ignis was concerned, he had absolutely nothing to wear and simply refused to dig out filthy clothes out of his sorted hamper. He planned to do laundry, there was no getting around that. But he cannot start his day with a towel at his waist.

“Oh no, not this horrid thing…” Ignis lamented as he examined a pair of coral booty shorts with “Juicy” written in glitter, seized from the deepest depths of his drawer. He did not know where it came from, but he speculated why he did not throw it out like he promised. But the notorious booty shorts were there, once overwhelmed and forgotten by the advisor’s other undergarments, now standing victor all alone in the empty dresser. An unforgivable sight.

An ultimatum was imposed on the young man. Either he paraded in his birthday suit until his laundry was finished or he don on the debacle of clothing that had desecrated Etro’s green realm.

The outfits in his closet did not count viable as options, it was either the short shorts or birthday suit. The consequence between a rock and a hard place scenario was he did not live alone. The apartment was shared by his three best friends and himself and he was bound to run into them in his lack of attire.

He opted for the lesser of two evils.

At least with the shorts he could have a clean conscience about modesty.

As he raised the white waistband past his thighs, Ignis found the garment too snug for comfort and barely covering the curves of his bottom and so lowered it slightly to his defined hip bones. He was not so certain if what he just put on was underwear or shorts.

Ignis grumbled under his breath when he heard the rumbling of the washing machine operating smoothly but occupied. The strategist had a plan that he would remain in the laundry room until his clothes were clean and dry. He did not anticipate on requiring a backup plan.

“Morning, Iggy.” A strained and gruff voice belonging to a pair of legs bobbing in the air called out to the strategist.

“Oh,” Ignis kicked his laundry bag in the room and discreetly closed the door behind as he stepped out to the living room. He should have expected his companion to be up at this time. “Good morning, Gladio. Doing your headstand push-ups already?”

“Yeah,” The Prince’s Shield replied, panting as his lips mouthed numbers. “Last set. Just a sec.” Beads of sweat trickled off his forehead and fell on the floor as he thrust his legs in the air with vigor. “One hundred!” He announced with full-gusto as the sentinel kicked back on his feet. His back was turned to the advisor as he downed a protein shake nearby. “So…”

Ignis realized that the sentinel was turning his way and dropped his hands to his crotch. His glare read, ‘Not one word.’

Gladiolus raised an eyebrow, ignoring the other man’s pleas. “New look today? What do you call that look? Avant-garde hot pants?”

“It’s too early for this…”

“So you didn’t wake up and take Prompt’s advice in loosening up?” The burly sentinel grinned as he crossed his muscular tattooed arms over his chest.

“As if I would ever take his advice so literally…” The advisor scoffed. “No, I was going to do laundry but someone had beat me to it. Was it you?”

“Nah. Prompto was up when I was making my shake.”

“Oh no.” The dread was a dark pit in his stomach.

“Did someone say my naaaame?”

“No, why would we—”

“Yeah, we were just talking about you.”

Ignis cast a murderous glare at Gladiolus to which the older man responded with a flippant smirk.

“Morning, guys!” Prompto frolicked into the room, a bounce with each step and when he laid his eyes upon Ignis, he dropped the bottle of water in his hands. “Whoa, Iggy, whoa. Good lord, good god, good morning!” He let out a low-whistle after scanning Ignis from head to toe.

Ignis crossed his arms over his chest, feeling the blond’s eyes on him.

“Is today ‘Everyone Gets Naked Day’?” Prompto asked Gladiolus.

Ignis raised an eyebrow. “No. Why on Eos would we ever mandate such a day?” Who in the right mind would — his situation was an exception — willingly go around undressed?

“It’s our apartment’s Spirit Week! Did you miss the—”

Gladiolus clamped a hand over Prompto’s mouth. “Easy now, you’re gonna make him feel left out.”

Right. Because Ignis was a sore sport about being excluded out of some dress code in their home. The strategist would have rolled his eyes but in all this time he had known his companions, they would be permanently stuck to the back of his head at this point.

Ignis felt that Gladiolus should keep him silenced like that all day, but he needed Prompto once more. “How much laundry do you have left?”

Prompto pulled Gladiolus’ hand down. “I got two more loads to go.”

“That’s nice. Take it out.”

“But it’s my laundry day.” Prompto gawked as he prodded at Ignis’ toned muscles with a finger. “Are you… Is this what you looked like under that suit? I thought you wore those long shirts to hide a coffee belly.”

“A what?” Gladiolus was taken back.

“You know? A coffee belly.” The blond gunslinger spread his legs and thrusted his hips forward, cradling an imaginary bulge over his abdomen. “Like beer belly except with all the coffee Ignis drinks.”

The older men equally gave Prompto a pointed look.

“No? Aw, come on, guys!” Exasperated, Prompto dropped his hands and seized his fallen water bottle off the floor.

“I’m getting breakfast started.” Ignis made way to the kitchen and donned on an apron hanging off a hook. He decided that he would allow Prompto to finish his laundry. Call it generosity.

After Gladiolus reassuringly patted Prompto on the shoulder, the two seated themselves at the bar.

Ignis could not comprehend why it was so alarming that they saw his exposed body. Ignis had witnessed all them in less, and most of those times were unfortunate events such were the pranks executed too far to someone being overzealous with drink during strip poker. He had seen it all — scars, beauty spots, stretch marks — embedded in his mind.

The strategist pushed those thoughts to the side and turned to the fridge. A baking dish containing mounds of dough were waiting for him. He left the cinnamon rolls to chill overnight before baking them the next day, anticipating to drizzle them in homemade icing before serving.

As he placed the dish down and set the oven to preheat, Gladiolus goaded at his turned back.

“Your daddy must have been a baker because you got the nicest set of buns I’ve ever saw.”

The advisor glowered. “What is the meaning—?”

“Was your father a meat-burgler?” Prompto chimed in with a wink. “'Cus someone stole two fine hams and shoved them down the back of your pants.”

“Enough. I fail to understand what my father’s occupation has to do with this though I doubt your explanation would prove worthwhile.”

Gladiolus chuckled to himself, swiveling in his stool away from the kitchen. “Sleeping beauty’s finally awake.”

Ignis shot upright, knowing who the sentinel was greeting.

“Morning, Noct-Knock,” Prompto waved.

The Lucii prince sauntered to the kitchen, eyelids droopy with sleep and sporting untidy inky tresses. He took out one of the buds out of his ear and let out a huge yawn. “I feel like death.”

Instead of taking the empty seat at Prompto’s side, Noctis went straight to the counter, swaying as though he could fall back to sleep in mid-step. He froze in front of Ignis, staring with bleary eyes. Ignis felt naked before the crown prince, the gold frills of the apron went past his thighs and he tugged at the material down. By no means did the advisor wish to give his prince the impression that he was an exhibitionist.

“No good morning from you, Speccy?” Noctis pressed his forehead against Ignis’ shoulder.

Ignis was stunned, a shiver ran through his spine and he was certain that it had nothing to do with his outfit. In their improvised half-embrace, he stroked the shorter man’s back. “Welcome to the land of the living, Noct. I’ll prepare you a pot of coffee.”


End file.
